Lauren Osborne Blaschke writes about life, her kids, her husband, and her love for the Lord. She hates coffee, but loves sweet tea. Most days she would rather be outside than in. For eight years, she was a single mom to Wes ("the mess"). In 2018, she married Byron, whom she lovingly refers to as "B" in her writing and now has two fantastic additional kids, Ethan and Layla. Her three kids and husband keep her busy and she loves it.
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Wes locked my keys in the car.
We arrived in College Station, Friday
evening. On Saturday afternoon, Wes was outside playing with a friend. He came
running into the house with this wild, yet fascinating story about a stick,
my car and seeing the keys on the passenger seat. It was quite
the report. I couldn’t follow much of it but I assumed he was just being
melodramatic. This is common. Still though, having a long history with this
child of mine, I decided it would be best to check out just what type of
shenanigan was really going on.
I went outside. There was my car. There
were all 4 doors, locked. And there were my keys…staring at me from the
Great. Somehow my kid had gotten into
the car with the keys, had manually locked all the doors with my keys inside.
Really. I didn’t even think this was possible with my specific keys. IT WAS
possible and Wes had done it flawlessly.
I came back inside to fill my mom in.
Being the great mom she is, she went to work. She posted Wesley’s escapade on
Facebook and asked if anyone could help. This saint of a person, Brandon
Sweeney, who is friends with my parents, sent a Toyota guy over to break in to
my car. He used these really cool tools, (which I’ve decided I really must have
a set on hand because I’m sure this will not be the last time I have to break
into something because of Wes) to break into my car that afternoon.
It took him about 10 minutes.
With the initial breaking in of the car, the car alarm went off. No big deal.
He simply shut the door and it quit. Whew! Thank you sir!
At this point, I figured we were home
free. I thanked him profusely and he left.
I went back to the car and opened the
door again, the very loud alarm began going off again. No big deal. All I need
to do is start the car. I hopped in and put the keys into the ignition. The car
wouldn't turn on. BEEEEEEEEEEP. All the lights on the dash board just starting
blinking violently at me. BEEEEEEEEEEP. I turned the key in the ignition again
and it still wouldn’t start. BEEEEEEEEEEP. Over and over the alarm is sounding
and I’m trying to start the car and it just keeps screaming its horn at me.
BEEEEEEEEEEP. BEEEEEEEEEEP. BEEEEEEEEEEP. I’m pretty sure it was getting louder
and louder with each time I tripped the alarm. BEEEEEEEEEEP. I’m sure the neighbors
were wondering what in the sam hill was going on at house #5844!!!!!!!!!!
I was beginning to have some
apprehension about this matter.
Why was this happening? The car should
It dawns on me.
My own car thinks I’m trying to steal
Out of protection, she wouldn’t turn on
while the alarm was sounding.
SERIOUSLY?!?!?!?! THE KID that did this
is going to HEAR IT!
Then I thought...oh wait. All I have to
do is shut the door, put the key into the keyhole of the door and unlock it
that way, then my car will know it has been unlocked appropriately and the
alarm will go off and I’ll be able to start the car.
Why didn’t I think of this before the first 8 times the alarm went
I'm pretty embarrassed at this point so
I hastily jump out of the car. I shut the door. I put my key in the
keyhole, but it wouldn’t go in. I try again and it won't stinking budge. What
in the world? This is bizarre. I bent down to get a closer look of the keyhole.
That’s when I found the stick. You know, the stick Wes was telling me about in
that wild and fascinating story?
It seems Wes had tried to “fix” the car
by getting a stick and putting it into the keyhole to “break in” to the car to
get the keys that he locked in there. As he turned the stick in the keyhole,
the stick BROKE OFF into that tiny little space. My key was now blocked from
unlocking the door and/or turning off the alarm. All the while, that dang alarm
is still sounding. BEEEEEEEEEEP.
WES THE MESS. The name was prophetic.
Eventually, this whole ordeal was
indeed solved. It took a lot of finagling and praying and scolding of, “Don’t
ever do this again dude.”
As I left the Bryan street, I think my
car had her back end tucked between her tail pipes.I have no dignity left on Easterling
Drive, Bryan, Texas.
My life with this kid is always an interesting adventure.
To the woman in New York on the fence about abortion,
The conservatives in the nation are in an uproar about the
decision your state made this week. They have decided to give you the option to
“choose” to abort your child for yet a longer percent of your term.
This isn’t new.
In the Old Testament, women were sacrificing their babies by
throwing them into rivers in order to appease the gods.
Today, women sacrifice their babies in honor of women’s
It was happening thousands of years ago and it is still
happening today. It won’t be rendered right until the Lord comes back.
So here is what I’d like to tell you today. For this moment, don’t
worry about the New York legislation or about the rights you have to choose
from. I just want to sit with you right now in your living room as the tiny baby forms
I know exactly how you feel today.
As a single, 27-year-old young professional, I read the same
home pregnancy test you probably recently took.
I too, fe…
As a child, each evening my dad would come into my room, prop
up next to my bed to talk with me for a few minutes before telling me
goodnight. The conversations would vary, but the ending was always the same. Before getting up he would say, “If I lined up
all the little girls in the whole wide world, I would pick you to be my
daughter.” I loved hearing that as a little girl, so I would smile, give him a
big hug and kiss and drift off to sleep. Every night was consistent. I never
tired of hearing those words. As I grew older and no longer needed my parents
to tuck me in, that sweet phrase would still come out every now and then. Even
if I acted too cool to hear it, inside it affected me.
I finished college at Texas ATM University and received my
first job teaching Kindergarten in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. I moved in to my
own apartment and began to get acquainted with my new city and new home. Though no one was tucking me in at bedtime,
with out fail I received flowers twice a year…
We had our first fight. Over kids.
The decibel of my voice raised. His was calmer.
I was a bit irrational. He stayed fairly reasonable.
We hassled through things for about an hour, without any
solutions rising to the top. It got late. Both of us were tired. And both still
Then I remembered that wise advice so many women gave me
before getting married, “Don’t let the sun go down on your anger.”
I looked at B and I thought about that worthy phrase…
Then I pushed it out of my mind, crawled into our comfy bed
and went to sleep.
Yep. The sun went
On our wrath.
So much for wise advice around our house. We were taking
this newly married thing by storm.
The next day, he called from work. I was calmer. I’d had
time to pray and think and process. I’d had time to sort through the night before's struggle. I thought through all the things I knew
were true about him and what I really believed was in his heart.
We talked. We apologized. We united. When he got ho…